


The After Party

by Blue Snow (kylocatastrophe)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, God I'm so sick sorry, Implied Relationships, Legit hankcon is like between the lines, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Reed900 Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylocatastrophe/pseuds/Blue%20Snow
Summary: Day 6. Pranks and practical jokes.Gavin Reed passes out drunk at Tina's after party. Nine learns something about human past times in such situations.... And does too well.





	The After Party

**Author's Note:**

> I can't draw today so I wrote this. I'll draw a scene later but I have to go to work and I'm sick.
> 
> No beta.
> 
> Written on my phone while sneezing in bed.

Gavin went to department suit and tie events for the free food and free booze. The former more than the latter, but he wasn't stupid enough to turn down good, free alcohol. Picked that up from Hank, among other things. 

 

He'd lint rolled his police dress uniform earlier, even took the time to make sure it was pressed into crisp lines. It wasn't particularly hard, considering it saw such rare use. Tonight, it would see the holiday ball. He wasn't too interested in that. Rather, the after party was what he set his sights on. Tina was in charge of that one this year, and she was never one to step down from a challenge. 

 

He appeared at City Hall in a self driving taxi along with most of the guests. The gathering rush began at five in the afternoon, and rose to congested levels before six-fifteen. By then, a steadily growing layer of snow had settled over the slushy mess on the roads. Gavin easily strolled into the building, scanned and allowed entry by a couple of identical police Androids. He wouldn't have paid them much mind a few months ago, but Androids were liberated now. Guess they decided to stay. 

 

“Detective Reed, good to see you this year.”

 

He wondered if these were the same Androids as last year…. Or the year before. He made to press forward, stopping only when he saw a horribly well dressed figure - well, two of them. Also close to twins. 

 

Connor, obviously, with Hank beside him, and on the other, Nine. He usually wore slacks with his high collared dress shirts, but the boxy Cyberlife jacket he refused to be rid of hid a lot of those long lean lines that Gavin scarcely admitted to enjoying. He was not wearing it. No, this jacket was part of a three piece ensemble, an impeccably tailored cut. Gavin had no idea of the origin. Just that it fit him like a glove. Panel details sported a gloss on matte pattern that glittered when it caught the light. Blue LED piping across the back panel pulsed a soft, steady blue. Gavin could also see a pair of silver cufflinks just peeking from the hem of the sleeve. And those dark blue slacks made his legs go on for fucking miles.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

Gavin fidgeted with the too-white gloves on his hands, swallowed once, and moved on before he was jostled too roughly. 

 

Nine didn't find him until after all the speeches, and by then, Gavin had eaten and steeled himself with no less than two flutes of champagne and one heavy glass of whiskey over the course of the exuberantly long three hours of political monotony. He was sitting alone with the evidence of his liquid courage. 

 

“Detective.”

 

Gavin looked up. Fuck him and his steely face.

 

“May I sit?”

 

Nine did not wait for an answer, and invited himself to the vacant space next to him, swiftly unbuttoning the lowest one on his jacket. Gavin gave a belated shrug and settled back in his own chair. He was only pleasantly warm, and would maintain that if things went well. 

 

“Lieutenant Anderson tells me there is often an after party for the precinct. He, nor Connor would tell me any details.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

A single brow raised, gently wrinkling Nine's forehead.

 

Gavin cleared his throat, shoulders rising a touch. “Yeah, there's an after party,” he checked the near antique watch on his wrist - fucking heirloom, “probably should head over in an hour or so. You can catch a ride with me.”

 

“Of course.”

 

He threw back the last of the whiskey.

 

Nine knew he was sitting too close to Reed in the taxi. The man was warm, and he'd nearly left his gloves at the table. He was hyper aware of them folded in his jacket pocket. At least his blood alcohol content was below legal limits for now. 

 

He had learned that Tina was the one throwing the party this year. And that Tina did not skimp on parties. He had some information as to what this entailed, but there was nothing like experiencing it for himself.

 

They arrived at a massive boutique hotel. Boutique was a bit of a misnomer. The chain was small, with select, luxurious locations. This one was no different. With a sleek, modern style, uniformed and smiling staff, both human and Android, it reeked money. Gavin seemed to know where to go, so Nine just followed him. 

 

In the elevator, he punched in a code for the penthouse suite.

 

Half of the top floor was reserved. And half of the top floor, it turned out, was literally one suite. It was bigger than Gavin's entire apartment. Nine knew they were late, but that didn't change anything. Gavin was usually functionally late to events. It had been a surprise to see him on time at the earlier gathering. 

 

The entire room was basted in various alcohols. Rooms. There was more than one room. A second spread of food - more finger food type things - was organized across the sitting room. Nine was pleasantly surprised to see chilled thirium. Actually, it seemed to be some sort of thirium champagne. Curious. 

 

Gavin almost immediately left his side, bee lining for the wet bar. Tina had hired a fucking bartender. “The strongest, fruitiest thing you got. Make that two actually.” He chugged the first one, a bright yellow and orange sunset in a short glass, and took the second one.

 

Nine watched him mingle. And get progressively more inebriated. 

 

Eventually, Gavin had to flop down in one of the luxuriously large chairs. He was laughing along with something Hank said. Nine meandered over, and found a convenient ottoman to perch on. Tina was busy flitting around like any host should, and Connor was folded into the chair with Hank.

 

It was far too late to be worried about work rules. Nine surmised that these did not apply here. This was a last of the year kind of thing. Do it, throw it out, forget it happened, and for the love of God, don't talk about it. He watched Connor feed Hank what looked like a tea sandwich, and then looked away.

 

He really should fetch water for Gavin. He was teetering close to an ethylic coma. Nine started to stand, but Connor stopped him with a ping.

 

_ > Let him pass out. _

_ < That seems like an ethical breach. _

_ > It's a party. Among friends. I'm told it's almost a tradition. A final hurrah. _

_ < That makes it sound like the world is ending. _

_ > In a way, it has. _

 

Nine stared at Connor, brow furrowed, LED cycling. Sounded like Hank's nihilism.

 

_ > Besides. Tina wants to draw on his face. _

 

“ _ What? _ ”

 

Connor just laughed.

 

Nine demanded to learn more, but Connor refused to ping him back. So he fetched another drink for Gavin. And some food. If he was going to play party to his alcohol coma, he was going to do it as safely as he could. endangering Gavin was not one of his priorities.

 

All things considered, it didn't take long for Gavin to slip off. He was barely contained in the chair. One leg was thrown up on the armrest, and the rest of him slouched over the other. Nine caught the glass before it slipped from his fingers, and even that did not wake him.

 

Like magic, Tina appeared. With markers. Connor gave him one of those  _ I told you so  _ looks.

 

“He's your partner, wanna have a go?” Tina offered Nine the fanned out markers.

 

Nine considered them for a moment. “Yes.” He picked one, and dragged the ottoman over to the chair holding his sprawled out canvas of a dickhead partner.

 

Ah.

 

He gave Gavin one more prod before getting to work. He had done some research, finding photos of drunk party goers covered in crude mustaches and simplified genitalia. Gavin was an asshole, better yet, definitely a massive dickhead. So he would give him one. 

 

Upon Gavin's forehead, Nine created a work of penile art. The cock he had drawn was flawless. A linework and hatching photocopy, and nobody knew whose penis it actually was. Nine allowed himself a private smile as he surveyed his work.

 

“Well, shit Brooklyn, now nobody else can have at it. That's fuckin art,” Tina sounded more amazed than annoyed. It was mock upset. She snapped a photo anyway, catching Nine with his mouth open while starting to apologise.

 

Hank's guffaw drew his attention. The lieutenant had gotten up to see better. “God, kid, he really is a fuckin’ dickhead!” And then he'd turned to ask Connor if he could 'draw shit that good.’

 

Nine almost felt bad, counting up each selfie and photo of the master level cock on Gavin's forehead. Oh well. They all came here to do this anyway. Tomorrow night was the new year. This would be tucked away.

 

But really, all Nine wanted was for Gavin to get up and see.

 

That did not happen until eleven the next day. Only Collins and Person had left. One for the wife, and one for the kids. Everyone else had found somewhere to sleep. Connor had ushered Hank into one of the bedrooms somewhere around three in the morning. Tina was cuddled up with her plus one somewhere else, and Nine sat in the chair across from Gavin all night.

 

Now, he was helping him to the bathroom, unsure of whether he needed to vomit or urinate. Until Gavin blearily saw his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror in the shower. 

 

“Holy shit?”

 

He forgot all about his rolling guts and heavy bladder, instead climbing into the shower to get closer to the mirror. “Oh my God, holy shit? Who the fuck Leonardo da Vinci'd a penis on my phckin’ face?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at adiblin on the tumbls.


End file.
